Harvest
by WastefulReverie
Summary: When Danny decided to accept Johnny and Kitty's invitation to some seasonal Ghost Zone party, no one told him that he'd have to participate in a millennium-old tradition for the newly dead. Stubbornly holding onto his virtues, he comes to realize that there is no escaping the Harvest. Oneshot for Ectober Week 2018.
1. Harvest

**Day Four: Harvest**

 **Words: 6866**

* * *

Among the mess of ethereal bodies, all glowing brightly under the cool purple and green haze, Danny found himself feeling out of place. The ghosts swarmed around him with some kind of unspoken circulation, laughing, jarring, and seething with a celebratory inclination; everyone was reveling in the Ghost Zone's traditional social gala, mingling with creatures of various sizes and colors in an undisturbed harmony. Instead of actually conversing with any of the other specters Danny awkwardly and moved around the area and silently observed the world around him.

The site of the party itself was hosted over a floating chunk of dark green rock that was at least the length of ten football fields. Out of natural formality, everyone was hovering above the designated square of rock, treating the land below them as more of a guideline about where to float rather than using it to actually support their gravity. It was a definitely a sizable party, much bigger than Danny had expected, and if he had to guess, there were at least a few thousand ghosts there.

The decorations were loosely scattered everywhere; many near the perimeter of the of the crowd, while some were just drifting aimlessly, being jostled and pushed throughout the cluster of ghosts. Most of them were just general creepy trinkets that could be found anywhere around the Ghost Zone, like the lamp-like, multicolored, ectoplasmic orbs that exclusively came in varieties of orange and purple. Then there were the more classic decorations like authentic human skulls (some of which still had remnants of rotting flesh on them, so Danny generally avoided touching them) and Jack-o'-lanterns elegantly carved with impressive expressions of horror. He also noticed that everyone was talking (in Ghost Speak, since many shared differing native tongues), yet, there was some kind of comforting hum resonating in the air, hanging consistently below the chatter.

Even though this party was a thing to be commended, especially the decorations, Danny still couldn't help but regret coming. He was isolated, and he had only decided to come on a whim. Sure, he'd _sort_ of been invited, but he wasn't exactly like the other ghosts there since he wasn't a part of legitimate ghost society and was technically half-human.

Hell, he didn't even see Johnny 13 and Kitty anywhere, who were the ones responsible for even telling him about it in the first place.

It'd been a regular school day and a regular day of ghost fights. The rebellious couple had managed to drag themselves out of the Ghost Zone again, this time by the skin of their teeth, much to Danny's irritation. They supposedly were out on a date at the roller rink, but by the end of the day, it turned into a catastrophic disaster for the other skaters, who thanks to Shadow, ended up falling into a giant crevice in the urethane coated floor. The roller rink wasn't close enough to Casper High for Danny to be alerted by his ghost sense, but one of the victims ended posting something on Snapchat and word traveled around the school quickly. From there, Danny managed to maneuver his way out of class through Mr. Lancer and went to resolve Johnny and Kitty's mess.

It was kind of a dull fight, to be honest. They had left the roller rink and had flown somewhere over near Sam's house. Kitty was mostly at the sidelines, apathetic because Shadow had already ruined her date and she had nothing to care about anymore. Johnny, on the other hand, was taking the fight slowly, slow enough that their 'banter' eventually regressed into a droll conversation.

"Wait," Danny lazily dodged a punch from Shadow, "so if you guys have an ice rink in the Ghost Zone why'd you come here for a date?"

"Because we know all the people there," Kitty rolled her eyes from the sidelines, "and they're all _total_ buzz-kills. That, and they never play good music there – they always play 1890's ragtime music! At least here they play modern shit."

"Don't even get me started on the fucked up rules they have at the rink either. They make everyone who died after 1958 wear knee-pads!" Johnny groaned. "I'm not a child! Just because I died less than forty years ago doesn't mean I'm gonna injure myself!"

Danny threw an ectoblast at Johnny's shoulder, barely grazing him. "Wow..." Danny laughed. "That's messed up."

"Tell me about it," Johnny muttered. He commanded Shadow to punch Danny again. "If any of the older ghosts had their way, they'd probably mandate some kind of baby-care for all of us younger ghosts."

"Actually, I think Walker petitioned that about ten years ago," Kitty said. "The Observants still have it hanging in the air, but since they literally sit on their asses for ninety-nine years per century, it's not gonna pass anytime soon."

Danny laughed, holding up a shield against Shadow. "Oh my Ancients, if they forced all the kid ghosts to go to school I'd lose like half of my enemies right there."

"I mean, they'd probably try to force you to go too," Johnny pointed out. "They don't really discriminate about how much you qualify as a ghost."

"Pft, they'd try," Danny replied smugly, finally pushing Shadow away, "but they've already tried to kill me and failed at that, so I doubt they'd get me to go to another school."

"Oh man," Kitty realized, "that's right, you still go to that awful human school. Man, that's gotta suck. The one week I went there I wanted to gouge everyone's eyes out and use them as stress balls."

"I mean, that's what it was like when we went to school," Johnny added. "Well, I mean when we weren't playing hooky, riding around town, sneaking into bars, and giving no shits."

"We always have been the life of the party," Kitty shrugged. "Couldn't stop us from being wild then, can't stop it now."

Danny scoffed, "What party? All you guys literally do is come into the human world and do what every living teenager does on a daily basis. That's not really that 'wild'."

"You don't know that this is _all_ we do," Johnny spat defensively, throwing an ectoblast himself this time.

"Yeah," Kitty said, eyes flaring a little, "we like, go to parties and stuff."

"Parties? There's parties in the Ghost Zone?" he asked. Sure, he knew about the Christmas Truce, but he assumed that the Ghost Zone was so anarchic most of the time that it'd be difficult to really plan an organized event.

Johnny chuckled, dodging another stray ectoblast, "Wow, you really don't know anything, do you?"

"Wherever there's teenagers, there's parties," Kitty explained, "it can't be helped. And then there's always the mainstream parties that everyone goes to, like the Harvest next week."

"Oh man," Johnny said, "I forgot about that. So, we're going this year? I don't think we've done it in a few years, right?"

"Eh, it's the biggest party of the year. Why not?" Kitty decided.

"Wait, what's this Harvest thing?" Danny inquired.

"Oh!" Kitty exclaimed, "You've got to come! Oh my Ancients, how come nobody has invited you yet?"

Now Danny was confused. _Him_? At a _ghost_ party. "Huh?"

"It's pretty much mandatory for all new ghosts," Johnny explained, "one of our most sacred traditions. You _have_ to go within your first five years of dying or like... you're a total dipshit."

Shadow threw another punch, and Danny blocked it.

"Socially speaking, it's _extremely_ important and it kind of baptizes you into being accepted into ghost civilization," Kitty contributed.

"But what _is_ it though?" Danny asked again.

"Okay, so you know in the human world, you guys have like Thanksgiving? It's a little bit like that, but with a lot more partying-"

"I think Mardi Gras would be a better example-" Johnny interrupted.

"No, no," Kitty corrected, "Mardi Gras is just full on partying. Harvest is an acceptance ceremony _with_ partying."

"That's true, Princess. But your first description of it earlier was better. It's pretty much just ghost baptism, but it has food, music, and dancing," Johnny concluded.

"Yeah, that's about right," Kitty nodded. She turned back to Danny, "It's _really_ fun."

"I don't really do parties, though," he protested. "And I'm a halfa, so I don't really get why ghost society is really important for me."

She sighed, "Look, Phantom, you _are_ a ghost, even if not wholly. And this is a tradition for all ghosts, so it's not like you have a reason not to go, right?"

"Plasmius goes every few years," Johnny added, "so it's not weird."

" _Ew_. I don't want to go if he goes," Danny frowned.

"I doubt he'll be there," he shrugged. "His reputation has kind of plummeted since the Pariah Dark incident."

"What about my reputation?" Danny asked. "I mean, I'm always fighting you guys."

"Nah, that's not as serious," Kitty reassured. "We know you only do that to protect your haunt, so nobody'll hold that against you."

Finally, with much reluctance, Danny gave in. "So _if_ I decide to go, only if, when is it?"

He got the information, expecting to forget about the party until he changed his mind at the last minute and decided to give Harvest a chance. And now he was there in the animated horde of eager party-goers, completely uneasy and experiencing ridiculous amounts of social discomfort. He didn't belong there, he wasn't an actual ghost, and unlike the energetic spirits around him, he didn't have many ghost friends.

He continued to aimlessly float throughout the crowd as he contemplated just going home. It was a Friday night so if he left now there was still a possibility that he could have a movie night with Sam and Tucker. He wouldn't even have to ask his parents since his parents thought he was over at Tucker's house for the night anyway. All he would have to do is just get out of this crowd and find his way back to the Fenton Portal...

"- _eyy_ , Phantom! You actually made it!" someone behind him laughed. Like everyone else, they were speaking in Ghost Speak, but Danny's mind didn't take long to process the translation since the language was something that every ghost innately knew.

He took a moment to orient himself in the air, having to dodge a few elbows here and there as he turned around to see who was talking to him. Johnny and Kitty hovered casually, seemingly composed and collected as opposed to some of the other overzealous ghosts who were already flying around screaming. To Danny's surprise, both undead teenagers had dressed in accordance of the occasion, wearing apparel that reflected the festivity of Harvest. Johnny had traded in his gray leather for a black one and instead of his normal white t-shirt, he wore an orange shirt with a silhouette of a skull on it. Kitty, on the other hand, had opted for a more flashy outfit and wore a bright purple leather jacket with a matching skirt; an orange and green ombré crop top; orange stocks with purple skulls; some short, black platform boots; her usual green necklace and purple scarf.

Behind Johnny and Kitty there was another ghost in their group, and when Kitty moved a foot to the right, Danny was surprised to see that it was Ember. Unlike Kitty, she was wearing just her normal outfit with the exception of an orange choker.

"Yeah," Danny replied, also in Ghost Speak, "I managed to come."

"To be honest I thought you were just going to ditch it," Johnny said.

"So did I," he admitted. "I only came last minute. Parties aren't really my thing."

"Well," Ember butted in, "this is a _lot_ better than a party, I'll tell you that. Just wait until they start with the ceremony."

"Ceremony?" he asked. He didn't remember Johnny and Kitty mentioning anything like that, though, they had said that it was a sacred tradition integral to ghost society.

Ember laughed, turning to Johnny and Kitty. "Oh? You guys didn't explain the historical importance of Harvest to him? Oh my _Ancients_ , this is going to be hilarious."

"Well," Kitty said, "it's kind of customary to keep newbies out of the loop of things. Makes it all more fun."

"True," Ember commended. "I never got to be a part of the initiation ceremony. I think the first Harvest I attended was fifteen years ago when someone asked me to perform for it. Now, this is just one of my annual gigs."

"Wait, what ceremony?" Danny backtracked.

"You'll find out soon enough," Johnny replied cryptically. "They round up all of the newly dead in the Onyx Platform, which is this closed off, raised area in the center of the party. They do the ceremony there, which is the 'official' party starter."

"Hold up, you mean _I_ have to go there?"

"Well, yeah," Ember rolled her eyes. "You _are_ newly dead. You're less than five years fresh, so that means you qualify."

"So, you won't tell me what it is?" he asked hopefully.

All three of the other teen ghosts grinned, "Nope."

Danny groaned. The new knowledge that was going to have to participate in some kind of ceremony that no one would tell him anything about presented some unavoidable anxiety. Now that they were here leaving was unavoidable and from their current giddiness, he could tell that there was no way he could get out of this 'ceremony' easily.

"Great," he muttered. He decided to change the subject, "So Ember... you said you're performing tonight?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "I play every year. I get to share the stage with a bunch of old fuckers who think that classical piano and the bagpipes are still the hottest shit around. I'm the only one here who actually knows how to play rock 'n' roll, so watch out for my performance."

"That reminds me," Kitty said. "Are you playing "Betray Me in the Catacombs" tonight? Because if you are, can you do the English version instead, because the translation for that version is _so_ much more expressive than the _Q_ _iexoar_." ( _Qiexoar_ , the official name for Ghost Speak.)

"The music director's gonna hate it since we try to keep things understandable for the entire audience, but I really don't give a shit about what he shoves up his ass since he's a verified lemurfucker." She smirked, "So sure, I'll do the English version for you, Kitty."

Kitty smirked, "Thanks, Em."

"I don't think I've heard any of your songs in _Qiexoar,_ " Danny realized. "Actually, I don't think I've heard anything else besides "You Will Remember"."

She gaped at him, "How fucking dare you? I mean, haven't you listened to my CD?"

He crossed his arms, "Where was I supposed to get it? There's only a few copies out in the human world."

"That's not an excuse!" her hair mildly flared. "Technus put all of my songs on YouTube!"

"Not since Tucker hacked in and deleted Technus's account!" Danny argued.

" _WHAT_!" she yelled. "I'm going to _kill_ your friend! First he – he _fucks up_ my concert! And then he takes my music down from the Internet!"

Johnny whispered to Kitty, "Babe, this is more entertaining than anything I imagined. We need to hang out with Phantom more."

"I _know_ ," she giggled.

"Technus uploaded videos that were brainwashing seven-year-olds!" he argued. "We _had_ to!"

"Children can't fully grow up until the Internet traumatizes them!" she declared. "The Internet's only been around for fifteen years and even _I_ know that!"

"They weren't traumatized! They were forming a _cult_! Do you know-"

" _Attention_." A disembodied voice reverberated throughout the crowd of ghosts, instantly rendering most conversations to silence. " _All newly dead need to assemble in the Onyx Platform, which is located 200 meters in front of the stage. All unqualified loiterers will be removed from the platform_."

"Well," Johnny turned to Danny, "that's your cue." Danny was caught off guard. He was still nervous about the enigmatic ceremony and hadn't had enough time to mentally prepare for whatever unknown task awaited him. The others had made it seem humiliating and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"Right now?" he asked, slightly stupefied.

"Yes, dipshit," Ember's mood had seemed to simmer back into its regular condescension in opposition to her momentary rage. She grabbed Danny's shoulders, turned him facing eastwards, and pushed him. "Now _go_."

"Have fun," Kitty laughed. "Be sure to lose yourself a little; that's the best part."

"Uh..." he was unsure of how to reply. "Maybe?"

He waved the trio goodbye and followed the movement of the other ghosts around him, all of whom appeared to be modern ghosts like him. Some of them were young and some of them were older, and also like him, most of them were all around confused. It was good to know that he and the other newly dead were sort of in the same boat, but it didn't make this any less nerve-wracking.

Finally, Danny reached the densest part of the crowd which was concentrated around some kind of barricaded stage made of black stone. _The Onyx Platform_ , Danny realized. Once he had pushed through to the border of the platform, he realized that there was some kind of force field that prevented just anyone from getting in. He cautiously tried to fly through the transparent force field but it wouldn't budge, thoroughly keeping him out. Puzzled, he looked around to see if anyone else could get it, until he saw that every few yards there were uniformed ghosts, almost like bouncers, manning the border and allowing ghosts to cross into the platform.

Danny approached the nearest bouncer; a lanky, green-skinned ghost wearing a plain black outfit; and hovered there awkwardly. The bouncer looked Danny over with dull red eyes and sighed. "Hold out your arm," he recited.

Danny refrained from immediate conformity. "Why?" he asked instead.

The bouncer patiently explained, "I need skin contact in order to evaluate your core's age, that way I can tell if you're new enough to qualify or not."

So, Danny complied and allowed the bouncer to check his core. He held his arm firmly, and gradually increased the tightness of his grip. Eventually, after about twenty seconds, the bouncer gasped and let go.

"There has to be some mistake," he determined. "Yo – you – _Impossible_."

"What?" Danny asked.

"You're still alive," the bouncer's eyes widened. "I can feel that you've died recently but even still..."

Danny laughed nervously. He should've figured that something like this would come up. "Yeah, I'm a halfa. I died over a year ago, so I had some people tell me that I had to do this."

"Halfa?" the bouncer whispered. "I thought that was a _legend_. No way... to be like us but also _human_ , Ancients..."

Danny was already aware that he was freakishly abnormal, even on ghost standards, so while it didn't really bother him, he still didn't want to be reminded. At least the guy wasn't cursing at him or anything, so it could be worse. He fidgeted uncomfortably and decided to skip to the point. "So, does that mean I can't get in?"

"I – uh..." the bouncer froze. "I don't think it's a problem?" Without warning, he grabbed Danny's arm again and drew some kind of holographic symbol on his suit with ectoplasm.

Danny looked at it in surprise, "Wha-"

"That lets you get in," he explained. "You can fly through the barrier now."

Danny took his word and flew forward, passing through the force field like it wasn't even there. When he first crossed over into the exclusive area, he noticed other ghosts giving him sideways glances, like they wanted to approach him but were keeping his distance. He didn't understand why until he realized that some of the other ghosts had probably heard what the guard had said and they were trying to determine if he was actually a halfa or were simply just baffled. He tried to ignore all of their looks by keeping his head up high and appearing confident despite his current lack of bravery and itching desire to turn invisible.

As the minutes passed, ghosts crossed through the boundary in trickles, filling up the empty space over the Onyx Platform with more occupancy. If Danny had to estimate, there were probably at least five thousand ghosts at the party total and only about a hundred or so had entered the platform. One hundred ghosts alone seemed like a lot, but in comparison to all of the other specters out there, they were an insignificantly outnumbered group.

" _Gather 'round_ ," the voice from earlier returned, however now it sounded more close and much less echoey. The ghosts around Danny began moving toward the center of the platform, spreading out to form a circle around something. He wedged himself in between a college-aged girl with dark blue skin and headphones around her neck, and an older man wearing a foreign military uniform. Now he could see that in the center of the ring that they had formed was a ten foot tall, hooded figure floating over a pedestal and surrounded by uniformed servants.

"To begin," the figure spoke, emulating the disembodied voice, "you must all drink the Elixir of Allegiance, and then I will explain this sacred ceremony to all of you young souls that the Ghost Zone has just recently embraced. Tonight, you will be officially accepted into the layered society of your ancestors, into this realm that hosts your depraved essences and allows you to wield its power. But before you may be educated, you must drink."

The servants rose from around the hooded figure, and Danny realized that they all were carrying platters of glasses. One of the servants descended in front of him and held out the platter of cups, offering him a glass of a runny, orange liquid. Danny was getting bad vibes from this whole

'drink and learn' thing, so he was reasonably reluctant when he accepted the cup of the mysterious orange fluid. He swiveled the cup in front of his face, letting the drink slosh around in its cup, allowing him to observe what it could be. Hadn't the hooded ghost said that it was... the Elixir of Allegiance? Honestly, that sounded _pretty_ sketchy.

The ghosts around him began to drink their own glasses, and even though Danny wasn't the only one who appeared skeptical, most of the ghosts just decided that it was just best to do as the hooded figure said. Cautiously, Danny sniffed the orange drink and to his surprise, it actually smelled _good_. In fact... it smelled eerily familiar, almost like the purified ectoplasm Danny had learned to eat whenever his ghost-side got hungry every few weeks.

With that in mind, maybe there wasn't any real harm in drinking it. Or maybe the scent of ectoplasm had aroused his more primitive hunger.

Nevertheless, Danny brought the cup to his lips and drunk the orange liquid in a single swallow. It tasted cold, sweet, succulent, and slightly spicy – which was a strange but somehow a delicious combination. Immediately, he was overwhelmed with a flush of good energy; the lingering soreness he typically carried had vanished and his unavoidable sleep deprivation ebbed into nothing. Whatever was in that drink made Danny feel restored and strong, and he could sense his emotional strife melting into subtle blissful. He also subconsciously noticed that something changed in his core, something giddy yet comforting, but he didn't see a reason to dwell on it.

There was another less obvious sensation that Danny couldn't place until he looked up and noticed the other ghosts. Everyone's eyes, be it green or red, had spontaneously adopted a striking orange hue – the same orange that they had drank from the liquid. Intrigued, Danny brought his hand up to his face and saw that there was an orange glow on his glove instead of his eyes' normal green light.

The girl with the headphones next to him seemed to realize the same thing about herself. "Huh?" she whispered.

"You have all drank," the hooded figure declared. "The Elixir of Allegiance has bonded you to this ceremony and now none of you shall deny the actions of this tradition without its painful consequence. Its intent is to see that you all participate and to increase the sensation of pleasure from the ceremony, to satisfy all of you in your personal highs."

Wait... was he implying that the orange stuff had been some sort of ghost drug that would hurt them if they didn't comply?

"Now, since the tradition of the Harvest is usually kept secret from you newly dead, most of you are probably wondering this ceremony entails. Well, to understand the ceremony, you must first understand the history behind the Harvest. We as ghosts are granted existence by the Ghost Zone and in return, we are appreciative to the Ghost Zone for allowing us to exist past our expired lives on Earth. However, being a ghost is a privilege, and in order to stay strong, we all have to sacrifice a part of ourselves, a part of our sensibility. Meaning that the Ghost Zone demands the slaughter and feeding of our own kind so that the strongest may prevail; we have to eat other ghosts in order to survive in this plane."

This was something that Danny knew and had found an alternative route. Sure, since he was a halfa he ate human food most of the time and only had to deal with his ghost hunger every once in a while or whenever his core got too weak. He had probably been a ghost for about six months when he first experienced the hunger, and at the time he hadn't known what was happening or how to stop it.

He had starved for days until something inside of him snapped and he attempted to eat the first ghost that he could get his hands on. _Attempted_. Thankfully, Jazz had trapped him in the thermos before he went completely psychotic and killed (twice-killed?) Klemper for no reason. Before she let him out of the thermos, Jazz had asked his parents a few uncomfortable questions about ghost food and learned that they needed to eat the ectoplasm in other ghosts to exist. So, when she finally let him out of the thermos (which was absolutely _agonizing_ ) she made sure that he had some purified ectoplasm from the portal to eat.

It wasn't something Danny liked to think about since it was a dehumanizing and embarrassing urge that he couldn't get rid of. Eating other ghosts was just _wrong_ on so many levels. Morally, he didn't even know how he could come to terms with it. So he regularly just dissociated and ignored that part of himself, and made sure that he always ate enough purified ectoplasm the moment he felt that otherworldly hunger.

The hooded ghost continued, "The slaughter is within us all, and it makes us twisted, barbaric, and relentless whenever we are hungry. And since it is a part of us, we enjoy this slaughter. Our society is built on the agreement that eating your own kind in order to survive isn't something that should be feared nor is it shameful. Eating other ghosts is something that must be done and something that should be normalized."

The girl next to Danny whispered, "No." He couldn't help but agree. This wasn't going anywhere good and he was starting to get scared.

"However, you, our youngest ghosts, often have trouble accepting this facet of our culture. Since many of you are neutral souls you reject the idea of normalized slaughter and refuse to feed. Refusing to feed is frowned upon since you can harm yourself and those important to you whenever you decide to starve yourself. I know that some of you have fed on ghosts before and some of you have not, because feeding is only a necessity for those over three-years-dead or for those with stronger cores."

Danny was anticipating what the hooded figure was leading up to and was disappointed when he actually said it.

"But tonight, you will all learn to accept your barbaric nature, your gluttonous desire to feed on those weaker than you, because without this desire you would not be able to exist. This is the ceremony of the Harvest. We will provide sufficient food for you to harvest upon and you _will_ feed. This tradition has been carried out for millenniums in the Ghost Zone, and now it is your turn to partake in it."

There was some clamoring all throughout the Onyx Platform; while some ghosts appeared vaguely unperturbed, others shared Danny's repulsed objection.

"To make your acceptance easier," the hooded ghost spoke easily over the protesting newly deads, "might I remind you that the Elixir of Allegiance guarantees that you can't back out otherwise you will experience pain. However, as I mentioned earlier, it will grant you special enjoyment and pleasure in your feeding, allowing you to understand the thrill of what's inside you. Additionally, it will protect you from one other, making sure that you will eat your designated feast rather than being enticed by each other. So you don't have to worry about another ghost eating you since the elixir within you deters their attraction to you. And lastly, the elixir makes you extra hungry."

The servants from earlier intangible rose through the platform's floor and this time they were all maneuvering a large crate together. They dropped it onto the Onyx Platform and without any further ado the hooded figure snapped his fingers and the crate broke open. There were dozens, possibly hundreds of small, green ghost blobs the size of footballs that escaped the crate – bouncing out of their entrapment with hopeless ignorance.

"Let the Harvest begin!"

The ghost blobs (squishy and moist with ectoplasm just _gushing_ inside them) were like sheep that had been released into a den of hungry lions, who in this case were the newly dead ghosts. Some of the ghosts lost themselves immediately, and snatched the non-sentient blob ghosts from the air and bit into them with animalistic ferocity. Wet ectoplasm floated loosely in the air, which vaguely reminded Danny of videos he'd watched of astronauts pouring water while aboard the International Space Station. The ectoplasm that the blobs were bleeding was so captivating and... _delicious_ , that Danny was so tempted to just sink his own teeth into one of the nearby blobs. He really, really wanted to eat them and _Ancients_ was he hungry.

Yet, he restrained himself. He refused from participating in this immoral slaughter. Even though the hooded ghost had claimed that this was an essential part of the ghost society, that ghosts couldn't survive without eating other ghosts, Danny knew that he could survive without giving into his innate gluttony. He was half human, and he wouldn't allow himself to lose sight of his human morals. He wouldn't be a cannibal, nor would relish in devouring something that was mobile and could scream in pain. While Danny knew that ghost blobs couldn't think or do anything than stupidly float around, it was still wrong to eat them and force them to experience the pain of being torn apart.

But he was starving and his morals were wearing thin compared to the incessant desire he had to _kill_ the blobs. Actually, his hunger was becoming painful now and – and his stomach felt like actual _fire_. The burning was sharp and hot and it inflicted sensations that surpassed the pain capacity of normal hunger. The flames were licking the inside of his organs, dangerously warming his ectoplasmic blood and possibly harming his human half.

This was the elixir's punishment for refusing to feed – it was slowly killing him from the inside and it would only cease if he abandoned his reservations and joined the Harvest.

Now, most of the other orange eyed ghosts had committed to the elixir's internal torture and let their hunger consume them as they consumed the blobs, reveling in the absolute high they gained from their flavorful slaughter. It was hurting Danny so much that he couldn't bear it anymore, paying such a simple price seemed like a bargain if it meant he was saved from this merciless fire. And with that, the final strands of his self-control slipped out of his grip, and his gluttonous desires occupied the forefront of his mind.

He grabbed one of the screeching blobs that was flying at a drowsy pace and bit it in half in one bite. Ectoplasm spewed out of its body when he tore into it, but Danny didn't care. Frankly, the fact that it was still moving around his mouth when he was trying to chew it didn't even bother him. Instead, Danny focused on its divine flavor, which was more layered than anything he had ever tasted; it's mushy and juicy texture that rewarded him with the satisfaction of savoring every bite; and how it's coldness delightfully caressed his tongue, like he was eating the world's fleshiest ice-cream.

And when Danny finally swallowed his first bite, the fire inside of him was extinguished and replaced with a cool exhilaration. It was then that he realized that he needed to feed more. Because feeding _felt_ nice. And the hooded ghost from earlier had been right, _this was not shameful_. This was pure ecstasy, and Danny would not prefer it any other way.

Once he had finished devouring his first blob he didn't waste any time tearing into his next prey or his third, fourth, or fifth one. His head swarmed with pleasant sensations that he hadn't known were possible to experience. Why hadn't he wanted to do this? The comfort of bliss outweighed the vindication he would find in his loose morals.

In the distance, beyond the tiny shrieks of the scared ghost blobs, he could hear familiar music that he couldn't place – but he could tell that it was in his first language, which was startlingly difficult for his brain to translate because he had been speaking in _Qiexoar_ all night. The English words hung in the air and Danny managed to vaguely process them and realized that it was some kind of rock song about betrayal and cheating. The meaning of the lyrics didn't really resonate with him, but it had a nice rhythm.

It was due to this that he found himself dancing around the other ghosts, everyone harmoniously lost in their own feast as they consumed vigorously, relishing the high they got from slaughtering. Semi-aware of the other orange-eyed ghosts around him, he noticed that every once in a while, some ghosts would fight over an especially fat blob and Danny couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle.

He licked the ectoplasm off of his lips, picked out another blob, and piteously ripped it apart like the many he had eaten before. Each blob had a slightly different flavor and he wanted to sample as many different tastes as he could before the night ended. This particular blob's ectoplasm tasted sweet yet bitter in Danny's mouth, and he slurped it until it was all gone. He continued to eat as much as he pleased, even though his hunger had long subsided, and he was only eating for the sole enjoyment of eating.

Danny and the other newly dead only started to slow down after an hour or so of the Harvest. Some ghosts' eyes were beginning to return to their natural colors, and some ghosts were falling into dormancy (the spectral equivalent of unconsciousness), which meant that they idly would hover in one spot until they woke up. Danny recognized that the frenzy around him was starting to subside, and fought against it; he didn't want this euphoria to end.

 _Be sure to lose yourself a little; that's the best part,_ Kitty had told him.

 _If this is losing everything, then I never want to come back,_ he thought hazily.

He tore into another blob, letting his primal urge to feed guide him. The blob throbbed against him and he gurgled it in his mouth as he laughed at its hopeless defiance. He was stronger, and it was just his food. Of course, he didn't care about its pain.

Danny's eyes were starting to grow heavy, and he could feel that the energy permitting him to fulfill his primitive yearnings was starting to fade. And even though he still didn't want to surrender the thrill that he had found within himself, he knew that exhaustion was winning. The elixir was coaxing him to crash as much as it had energized him.

And before Danny knew it, he felt the familiar warm feeling of his transformation, causing him to turn human and pass out on the spot. The few other ghosts in the Onyx Platform who were still awake marveled at Danny's transformation before disregarding it as a dream and slipping into their own dormant states.

* * *

Danny wasn't awake, but something in him recognized the sensation of being carried, and he leaned into his unknown helpers' soft, cold grip. His mind drifted, mostly unaware, but listening.

 _"_ _We can't just leave him floating around the Zone in his human form, Johnny,"_ that voice was warbled and feminine, and his mind couldn't fully comprehend her language since _Qiexoar_ was always more difficult to understand when he was Fenton. " _Some perverted freak like Skulker could find him in less than an hour and they'd try to skin him alive or something_."

 _"_ _But do we actually have to go through the portal, babe?"_ a second voice asked. _"_ _What if his psycho parents try to kill_ us _? Shadow's with the bike so what would we do then?"_

 _"_ _Neither of us are helpless suck it up."_

There was some sort of whirring noise and the air transitioned from cold and dry to warm and temperately more humid. Something smelled familiar, and like chemicals, ectoplasm, and childhood.

" _Which way is his room? I'd hate to give the sister a scare and have to face that bitch again_ ," the second voice mumbled.

And then, there was the comforting feeling of laying on something tangible and fluffy. The two other presences vanished, and Danny fell back into his (half) dead slumber.

* * *

The next morning, Danny woke up in his own bed, without the damnedest idea how he had managed to fly himself back there. But then, he noticed someone else had taken the time to tuck him into his sheets, and grew even _more_ confused. He felt refreshed, which was a nice break from how he normally felt when he woke up. Simultaneously, he also realized that he felt... sticky for some reason? Wait, no, he remembered why he was sticky – the ectoplasm that he'd eaten was all over his skin. _Eaten_. Something in the pit of his stomach dropped when he processed exactly what he had done the previous night; he remembered everything up until the moment he passed out and couldn't help but feel... not embarrassed but mystified.

Eating ghosts wasn't something he'd ever thought he would let himself enjoy, especially since he had moral objections against it. But the ceremony last night had... eased him of a lot of his shame about it. Cannibalism was supposed to be wrong, but in ghost society, it _had_ to be normalized because it was the only way they could survive. Yeah, remembering what he had done was weird and disorienting, and he knew that by human standards it was wrong. But as a ghost, cannibalism was accepted, so therefore it wasn't wrong by ghost standards. And last night he hadn't been human, nor was he even wholly human in the first place...

There was no doubt that tearing apart those blobs was nothing less than savage, but if he could contain his barbaric desires, would that make it okay to occasionally indulge in them? After all, ghost hunger belonged to ghosts, and even though he wasn't proud of it, he wanted to experiment with it again. He had _liked_ it.

Danny threw his covers off himself and walked across his room so he could look in the mirror. He was still covered head to toe in ectoplasm, making him look like he had walked under a green paint-can. Unfortunately, it was all over his clothes, so that meant that he'd probably have to throw this specific outfit away because ectoplasm stained like hell and he didn't have enough resourcefulness to remove it all, even with the perk of intangibility. Danny sighed and decided to take a shower before any of his family barged in his room and saw him like this.

From there, he continued living his _totally_ normal life. Saving the town, going to school, hanging out with Sam and Tucker, and now sometimes with Johnny, Kitty, and Ember too. It wasn't until a month later when his hunger finally returned and he felt the need to feed again. And this time, instead of drinking from Mom and Dad's purification filters, he opted for a different menu.


	2. Animals that Confine Me

Written for Days 13 and 16 for PhannieMay19.

Slick ectoplasm chilled his lips. Tangy, electric, quenching. He rolled his tongue over the flavor, savoring the delight that the ghost brought him. His core pulsed with demand, pushing him further. Even though he was almost full, he still wanted more. He wanted more of this taste, of this euphoric experience.

He wouldn't let himself be done.

The snake was almost expired. He had torn into it easily, letting his fangs do most of the work. Underneath its scales was the metaphorical 'nectar' of the fruit, the tastiest part of the ghost; fluid from the snake's core. He'd learned quickly that animal ghosts were so much different than ordinary blobs because their anatomy was much more complex. He had loved experimenting with the most efficient ways to devour every species.

Nothing was left of the snake. In his ecstatic trance, he'd consumed the rest of its remains. Even his fingers were licked clean, leaving his gloves pristine and white again.

And he was still hungry. He still needed more to quell his grating hunger. He had only just stopped eating and it had already returned, hot-iron poking at his stomach's lining. Hopefully his next prey was another animal; he'd already gotten tired of blob ghosts.

Phantom surrendered himself to the desires of his core, leaving to find another animal ghost. This cuisine may be gross, barbaric, _savage_ \- but he was done being ashamed of this. Pleasantries were the reward for doing what felt good, for _surviving_. He only felt a little guilty that other creatures had to cease existing for his enjoyment, but if the Harvest had taught him anything, it was that feeding was _normal_. Among ghosts, he was normal. Well, as normal as he could be as a half-ghost.

His stomach was getting hotter and hotter. He needed to stop dwelling on thoughts and find his next prey.

There was a presence somewhere in front of him. He was currently in his bedroom, but he could sense that on the other side of his bedroom wall… there was another ghost. An animal ghost! Something that he could feast into without feeling bad, he could lick and slurp and chew… Without further consideration, he phased through the wall, hungry thoughts making him dizzy. _Where_ was the animal? Where _was_ it?

He spun around, gripping his core (blistering with starvation) and blinking his eyes from the disorienting afternoon sun. Suddenly, his core spasmed in the direction that he sensed the ghost, too desperate ( _hungry_ ) to even exert his ghost sense. And there he saw it, a ghostly green, furry, four-legged animal that was bigger than a cat but smaller than a dog. It was like one of those beaver type animals, maybe an otter - but also kind of like a duck? Wait… _platypus_. That was it. He used to think platypi weren't real until Jazz made him watch that nature documentary.

The ghostly platypus was floating dumbly in front of FentonWorks, presumably drawn towards the portal. It was so easy, his food was just wandering in front of him, blind to its impending termination. Taking his chance, Danny lunged, grabbing the placid animal's tail and tearing it off in one fluid motion. The platypus screamed in hopeless anguish, screeching, protesting his assault. The tail softened into goo in Danny's hand, losing most of its form and texture once it had been detached from the platypus's core. He brought his palm to his face, slurping the goo that caressed his glove. The tail was only his first bite, the rest of the dish was yet to be sampled.

As he had done with the snake minutes earlier, Danny lost himself in his gory desires. He paid little mind to the animal's final whimpers of pain as he resumed his feast. Ectoplasm flew everywhere, loosely escaping the platypus's body. Danny didn't even realize that he was making a mess in front of his house, nonetheless his sister's window. All he knew was this pleasure.

Somewhere in Danny's tireless ecstasy, he was interrupted. A nagging exclamation of horror that wasn't his prey's, his name being said over and over. He'd said that he was busy - or at least he tried to speak while he broke the platypus's neck with his teeth. But yet, apparently he wasn't _allowed_ to eat in peace! His starvation was finally relieved, he finally felt _good_ , but interlopers were always going sidetrack him.

Beyond agitated, Danny attempted retreating with his meal. He bundled the broken mass of ectoplasm in his arms, moving to fly away, but something caught his leg. The Jack o' Nine Tails thwarted his escape, wrapping firmly around his ankle. He jerked against the restraint on his leg, hissing and clawing. This was _his_ meal! _His_ prize! No one was going to take it from him!

He wasn't cognizant enough to realize when Jazz stopped tugging on the Jack o' Nine Tails. The next thing he knew, his entire world was numb and gray; the interior of the Fenton Thermos greeted him with an unpleasant familiarity.

The inside of the Thermos was like being detached from all of your senses, even your awareness of time. At first, Danny had thrashed against his confinements - wildly raging against the walls of the Thermos. But as his entrapment continued, stretching on for some length of incomprehensible time, his gluttonous bloodlust sated. His anger, his _need_ , resolved into petty irritation.

He didn't know how long he had been here. This lack of sensation, lack of light and sound and a tangible _body_ was starting to grate against his mind. He needed something, _anything_ , or else he might go-

There was a whirring, and suddenly the Fenton Thermos lurched with force, entangling light and gravity until he was decompressed and he could _move_ again! Sounds of ragged breathing, an influx of color that stressed his eyes, and staticky air welcomed him back into form. He was on his knees now, a cold surface beneath him. From behind a green sheen, three pairs of eyes followed him, watering with unfiltered wariness and judgement.

Jazz, Sam, and Tucker had locked him behind a ghost shield, gawking at him like he was _crazy_. Why the hell had they done that? He wasn't crazy, he had just been feeding….

Oh, _right_. They weren't supposed to know about that. And he had gone feral outside of Jazz's window. No wonder they were concerned. He might have made peace with ghost society's acceptance of cannibalism, but his friends were in the dark about his _dirty little secret_.

"Danny…" Sam spoke. "Wh - what happened?"

He looked up at her from behind the shield. Her lip was curled in a downward frown, slightly quivering. Sam's hair was a mussed mess, her ponytail was lopsided and loose. He had really… scared her, hadn't he? But had his actions scared her, or did he himself scare her?

Danny's legs were starting to go numb from how he was sitting on them, so he moved to sit cross-legged. Out of the corner of his eye he realized that he was entirely drenched in ectoplasm, smeared against his suit like radioactive grease. _Clockwork_ , he looked like _shit_. He was almost tempted to lick some of the ectoplasm off of himself but thought better of himself.

"Danny... dude?" Tucker asked. His voice cracked, "You're re _ally_ freaking us out here man."

"So - rry." Danny cleared his throat. He hadn't expected his lungs to ache from the thermos. " _Sorry_. I uh... lost control, I guess?"

"You guess?" Jazz accused. He noted with sickening realization that she was crying, not bothering to wipe her tears. "Danny, I was trying to _study_ when I heard you tearing that poor thing limb _from_ limb. I couldn't even tell what it _was_ by the time I opened my window! I-" she grabbed a fistful of her pants. "I thought you had this under control! Why didn't you eat the ectoplasm from the lab, why did you let yourself _do_ this!"

She was obviously disturbed, repulsed by him. But she didn't know… didn't know what he knew about how this stuff worked. He had once shared her opinions, believed that feeding was morally wrong - avoided it, ran from it…. Until the Harvest showed him that it wasn't so bad. She didn't know about the Harvest, about what eating felt like. _They didn't know._

If he told them, would they see it like he did? If he could only make them understand…. Then he wouldn't have to hide this side of him anymore.

"I let myself do this... because I'm okay with it," he admitted. Jazz recoiled, visibly taken aback. Sam and Tucker tensed up, also failing to register his words.

"Wait…" Jazz put together, "so you didn't…. You _chose_ to do that instead of the artificial ectoplasm? It wasn't just - _an accident_?"

He felt smaller under her accusation, but managed to respond with clarity. "Yeah… I stopped eating the artificial stuff… about four months ago?"

Tucker took off his beret and stretched his hand over his face, " _Why_? Why the fuck would you _do_ that?" He appeared troubled and bothered, but predominantly just confused.

Sam, on the other hand, reacted lividly. "What part of killing other ghosts for consumption do you find _okay_?" she exploded. "The Danny _I_ know would never do that!"

"I have my reasons," he explained, trying to minimize the damage. Her words hurt, but he knew that they wouldn't grasp it at first, he just had to justify his choice. "Instead of the fake stuff, I've been feeding on real ectoplasm instead. I don't get hungry that often, so this is probably only about the fifth time I've done it?"

Sam was impatient. "But _why_ did you start doing that-"

"Well, the first time I was kind of forced into it," he provided.

"No," Jazz shook her head. "I've made sure that we're always stocked with enough ectoplasm for you to eat. There's no time you would've had to resort to that."

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "But I got invited to this like party-ritual thing in the Ghost Zone. I didn't know what it was, but I went since apparently even halfas are welcome there. Turns out it was an initiation for the 'newly dead' to accept eating other ghosts. They gave me this drink… and if I didn't eat ghosts, it would hurt me. So…" Tucker gasped and Sam inhaled sharply, "I did it. And after that, I just couldn't… go back to eating the artificial stuff. Real ectoplasm tastes so much better, _feels_ better." He shut his eyes. "It's indescribable how _amazing_ it is."

There was silence in the lab. The tension tripled over itself, before it finally broke down and blanketed over each of them. Sam was the first to break the ice, headstrong and merciless.

"That's probably the most horrifying and weak thing I've ever heard you say, _Daniel Fenton_ ," she hissed.

He opened his eyes and saw that Tucker still had his face covered and that Jazz was shaking her head. "Why?" he asked. "Why is it so wrong?"

Tucker deadpanned, "Dude, it's cannibalism."

Sam growled, fiercely putting her fist against the ghost shield. Unlike Danny had expected, it was solid under her touch; a shield that was ghost _and_ human proof. That was good to know. "And it's the unjust _slaughter_ of sentient beings."

"You're not a killer. _That_ isn't my brother," Jazz added.

"Well, like you and Tucker I'm not exactly a vegetarian," he replied to Jazz. "I'm not going out of my way to hurt animal ghosts just to be sadistic, I only eat when I need-"

"You're not being sadistic?" Jazz raised a brow. She too, exploded. "I saw the way you were dismembering it! I saw the look in your eyes! You didn't even care that it was in _pain_! You didn't… you didn't have to go that _far_!"

"It's no different than human food," Danny addressed. "Sam, haven't you done research about how they treat animals they raise for slaughter? How they torture animals until they die? That's accepted in human society, and we never think twice about it. With ghost animals, I… I know it's barbaric and cruel," Danny did little to mask his shame, "but it's not any different than eating a hamburger. Hell, eating ghosts is even _more_ accepted in ghost society; cannibalism is a big part of ghost culture because if you don't eat, you die. Other ghosts don't have 'artificial' ectoplasm as an option."

"But you do have it as an option!" Sam screamed. "Just because society accepts it, it means it's right? Even when you have an alternative option?" Sam scoffed.

"I'm not a social activist. Sam…" Danny sighed. "Ectoplasm tastes _good_. I don't like artificial ectoplasm. And because I prefer to eat ghosts, even though I know it isn't supposed to be 'right', since society is okay with it, so am I. That's also how I feel about meat."

"I can't agree with that. I've never agreed with how society unjustifiably murders animals for production. Thus, I can't agree with your sick, _savage_ carnage when you have an alternative option!"

Danny sagged. The ectoplasm doused across his suit was getting more tempting to taste, but he put that urge aside for later. "I knew you wouldn't get it. And that's okay. But you can't stop me from feeding - this is my body, my choice."

"And your choice is to kill-!"

"If I have to eat ectoplasm to survive, I am going to at least chose _how_ I eat it! The gross, disgusting shit that Mom and Dad make in the lab, or natural - _probably healthier_ \- ectoplasm from other ghosts. Jazz, Tucker - are you with me?"

His sister and other best-friend stiffened. Tucker tried opening his mouth, but no words came out; gaping like a fish. Jazz, on the other hand, averted eye contact and spoke softly, "If there's no changing your mind… I can't stop you. Even if I… don't like what you have to do. I just… even if you do it, _I_ don't want to see it again. Once was enough."

"I'd be a hypocrite if I disagreed with you," Tucker had a faraway look in his eyes. "But that also doesn't mean I want to see it or be involved. Not gonna lie, it's really fucked up."

Danny nodded, "Yeah… I know. But I like it, so I guess I've made peace with that nasty part of me."

Even with his explanation, Sam was hearing none of it. "You guys are going to let him do this?" Sam turned on Jazz and Tucker.

Tucker crossed his arms, "Like she said," he nodded to Jazz, "you think that we'd be able to stop him if we tried?"

"We stopped him today. With the thermos. We can lock him up, confine him until he eats the artificial," Sam brainstormed.

Danny froze in place, would they be able to do that? He was stronger than them, yeah, but if he was hungry enough they'd probably be able to overcome him with less difficulty. And trap him right back inside this shield, hopeless to escape….

Tucker snorted, "And you think we'd be able to do that forever? That's a recipe for disaster, Sam."

He was right. Danny _would_ find ways around it. What had he been thinking? Even if they confined him again, it would only be a matter of time before he managed to feed again, without them around….

Jazz put a hand on Sam's shoulder, "You can't chose other people's choices for them."

Sam smacked Jazz's hand away. "That hasn't stopped me yet," she fumed. She threw one last dirty look in Danny's direction, being petty enough to avoid looking him in the eyes. With the ghost shield behind her, she walked with her chin up, away from Danny's confinement. Her boots sounded like small gunshots as she trod up the lab's stairs.

"That's… not good," Jazz assessed Sam's volatile reaction. "I get why she's upset, but…" She sucked in air through her nose and exhaled sharply, cutting herself off.

In turn, Tucker tried to force a smile. However, his lips only looked thin and crinkled, "I wouldn't sweat her reaction too much," he weakly reassured. "She's uh… been that extreme with me before over food too. She'll get over it."

"Doubt it," Danny groaned. He stood up inside the shield and paced around. "She's right, that I could chose not to do this. But I'm selfish and just want to feel good when I eat. We both know she's right, so she's not going to let it go." Realizing that he was back on a tangent, he turned back to Jazz and Tucker. "I uh… thanks for understanding, though," he acknowledged. "Even though I know you don't like it, I appreciate the effort?"

"Yeah," Jazz reciprocated curtly. Beside her, Tucker nodded.

They all looked at each other for a moment, once again lapsing into uncomfortable silence. Then, Tucker shook himself free of the tension and stepped towards a nearby panel on the wall.

"I guess since you're uh… cool now we don't need the ghost shield?" he fiddled with the control panel. "We didn't know how you'd react when we let you out so we prepared for the worst."

"Good idea," he agreed. "It took me a while to cool off in the thermos. If you let me out earlier, I uh - wouldn't have responded well."

Jazz pursed her lips. "Danny… if you… if you're going to do this, do you think that we should lock you up? Like while you eat?"

He was thrown by her sudden question. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Before she could respond, Tucker pulled a lever and the ghost shield between them shimmered out of existence. There was nothing between the three of them now.

"I know I said I didn't want to be involved, but…" Jazz ran a hand through her hair, "having you go berserk in public like you did today may not be the most… flattering thing for your image. That, and I was able to capture you easily. What if it had been Mom and Dad instead? So what if I help set up the ghost shield for you? So you have a safe space to…"

"... you can say 'kill ghosts'," Danny sighed. "If anything, we've established that today."

"Right, we can set up a ghost shield for when you do do _that_ ," she finished. "How do you feel about it?" she asked Tucker.

He flustered for a moment before deciding. "I'd be willing to help as long as I'm out of the room by the time you start eating," Tucker shrugged. "Well, and I'm not cleaning any messes you make," he gestured to Danny's overall appearance. He didn't doubt that some of the ectoplasm was smeared in his hair by now.

"I'll try to take you guys up on that then," Danny agreed. He didn't like the idea of notifying his sister and best-friend about when he felt like feeding on ghosts, but if he had someone to set up a ghost shield for him, it _would_ be a lot safer than just floating out into the street. "I don't know if I'll always be able to remember since the hunger comes quick, but… I'll try."

Another pause, another lag in the conversation. What else was there to say?

"I think I'm going to clean up now," Danny eventually decided, stepping out of the containment area. He made sure to stay in ghost form so that the ectoplasm wouldn't stain his human clothes. Jazz and Tucker moved aside so he could walk past them, staying in the downstairs by themselves for one more moment. Danny smiled to them nervously, knowing that they were staying behind to talk about him privately. He didn't particularly care about what they would say; he'd already heard much of the worse bits from Sam.

Once he had exited the lab, he slipped into the upstairs bathroom and turned on the faucet. He stepped away from the sink and sat on the toilet lid instead, finishing what he had started hours earlier. He positioned his arm in front of his face, licking and sucking the ectoplasm that he had spilled on himself.

His core hummed pleasantly, agreeing that he had made the right choice. Even though he knew this was wrong, it felt so _right_.


End file.
